Dreaming of You
by melissa80015
Summary: Hermione is having strange dreams; Dreams about the mysterious death of a girl. Soon, Hermione is convinced the girl in her dreams is trying to communicate with someone, but that someone is not Hermione. It’s Draco.
1. I Don't Understand

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the HP characters and I'm not making money off this story.

**Summary:** Hermione is having strange dreams; Dreams about the mysterious death of a girl. Soon, Hermione is convinced the girl in her dreams is trying to communicate with someone, but that someone is not Hermione. It's Draco.

_Gray clouds hung over the cemetery, choking out the sun. The wind whistled through the trees. White flower petals tumbled in mid-air. A young man stood alone facing a tombstone with his hands in his pockets. The breeze brushed through his white blonde hair scattering it in several directions. The boy didn't seem to care. He stooped down and placed a single white rose next to the slate gray tombstone. He kneeled there for a moment more before kissing the palm of his and placing it against the grave marker. He stayed this way for what seemed like a long time. Then slowly, he stood. He turned away from the tombstone and walked slowly away, his head bent down to his chest. He seemed to fade away into the clouds._

Hermione rubbed her eyes, willing herself to wake up. She was surprised to find them wet with tears. She remembered the dream she had had. It had certainly been one of her weirder dreams. She pulled back the curtains of her four-poster and swung herself out of bed. "Rough night, Hermione?" Parvati asked as Hermione made her way to the bathroom. "Huh?" she replied in confusion. "You look absolutely dreadful," Lavender said with a giggle. Hermione frowned. "You would too, if you stayed up all night studying," she snapped. She really didn't feel like telling Lavender and Parvati the truth. The reason she felt (and presumably looked) so awful was most likely because of her dream, as she had gone to bed quite early.

When Hermione thought back on the dream, she couldn't see what had upset her so much. It was only slightly disturbing if anything at all. It wasn't as if she knew the boy in her dream.

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Hermione arrived at the Gryffindor table, just as hundreds of owls swooped into the Great Hall, bringing their owners the day's mail. She sat down next to her friends. "Hello Ron… Harry." Hermione always took an extra moment to look at Harry to be sure everything seemed well with him, as well as things could be, anyway. "I'm fine Hermione," Harry said with a small smile. Hermione was satisfied with that. She knew that Harry truly was getting better. At the beginning the year, Harry had avoided everyone, no matter how much he needed comfort. Hermione had always heard that you couldn't possibly imagine what it would feel like to lose a loved one until you experience it. Of course, she had lost Sirius too, but he had been Harry's godfather. The closest thing Harry had to a parent had been stolen from him. She couldn't imagine life without her own parents. Now that it was winter, however, Harry had begun to talk more, he began picking up on his studies, and he even cracked a few smiles once and awhile.

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By the end of the day, Hermione felt exhausted. During potions, she had accidentally poured dragon scales into her cauldron instead of crushed eagle talons and had lost Gryffindor forty house points, all because she had dozed off with her head resting on her shoulder. She was determined to stay awake and take notes during History of Magic, but fifteen minutes into class she felt herself nodding off. She glanced around at the classroom. Half the class had their heads down, including Ron, who was snoring lightly. _Professor Binns won't notice if one more head goes down,_ she thought to herself. She looked at Harry. He was busy taking notes on Giant Wars. Harry had actually been paying attention in all his classes, lately. Hermione hoped this change in Harry might encourage Ron to work harder in his classes, but now Ron slept through every class instead of playing games and writing notes to Harry. Hermione decided she'd just take a short nap and copy the notes from Harry later. Hermione laid her head in her arms and quickly fell asleep.

_Hermione glanced around. She had been here before. She was in the cemetery with gray clouds hanging over her. She brushed her hair from her face, but the wind was quick to blow back again. But instead of brushing it away she stared past it. She stared at the same boy who had been in her dream. Hermione moved toward him as he knelt on the ground and placed a white rose on a slate gray tombstone. Hermione stood behind him and said, "Excuse me." The boy didn't look up as he kissed his palm and placed it on the tombstone. "I'm sorry to bother you, but do you know where we are?" The boy stood and turned toward her. Hermione gasped. "Malfoy?" she said in disbelief. Malfoy ignored her and walked slowly away, his head bent low. He disappeared into the landscape. Hermione stared after him, debating whether or not to follow. She was about to move in the direction he had gone, but something (curiosity perhaps?) willed her instead, to turn and examine the grave Malfoy had been visiting. She dropped down to her knees and read the tombstone:_

_Charlotte Dunbar_

_Loving Sister,_

_Caring Daughter,_

_Special Friend._

_You will be sorely missed._

_Hermione looked at the tombstone sadly. She had never imagined Draco caring about anyone beside himself. Hermione's sadness quickly turned to astonishment. As she stared at the stone the words began to fade away. Then, as if they were being scratched into the tombstone, words began to slowly appear:_

_Help Me_

_Draco_

_Hermione's heart began to beat quickly. "W-what?" she said to herself._

_Draco _

_Alive_

_Please Help Me_

_Hermione was now convinced that the tombstone was trying to tell her something. "Draco's alive? I don't understand," she said frantically. Something inside her was telling her that the message she was receiving was important and that her time was running out._

_Draco _

_Me _

_Alive_

_Help Me_

_Draco_

_Please_

_As soon as she read the message it began to fade away. "Wait!" Hermione shouted, "I don't understand!" Hermione waited for another message to appear, but none did. She smacked the tombstone with her hand. "Come back! I don't understand!" Even in her dream, Hermione could feel herself waking up. "No, no, please. I don't understand. Wait!"_

"Hermione? Hermione, are you okay?" Hermione blinked and sat up. She realized she must have fallen out of her chair because she was now sitting on the ground. Harry, Ron, Professor Binns, and the rest of her classmates were all hovering over her. "I'm fine," she replied to Harry, and then, to herself she said, "I just don't understand." She stood and rubbed her head as the rest of the class went back to their seats. "Well, dear, there really was no need to scream," Professor Binns said. "What do you mean, sir?" Hermione questioned. "You were screaming," Binns replied, "Screaming about not understanding. If you didn't understand, you could have just raised your hand and-" Hermione cut off Binns' monotone voice and asked, "Sir, may I go to the infirmary. I don't feel well." Binns nodded. "Of course, Heather." Hermione grabbed her things and rushed out the door.

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Hermione entered, not the infirmary, but the library five minutes later. "Madam Pince," she said coming up behind the librarian, who was placing books on shelves. "Yes? How can I help you, Ms. Granger?" she asked sharply. "Well, I'm looking for someone, I think. I mean, I think she's dead. I was wondering if you could help me look for someone, who I believe is dead, named Charlotte Dunbar." Madam Pince looked at Hermione suspiciously. "This way, Ms. Granger. I believe you'll want to look at later editions of the Daily Prophet." Madam Pince led her to the back section of the library, towards the reference section where there were several shelves that contained stacks and stacks of old, yellowing newspapers. "There you are Ms. Granger. The newspapers are organized so that the earliest editions are at the top. The most recent are there," she said pointing to the very bottom shelf and walking away briskly. Hermione set her mind in gear, trying to decide which time period to check first. She remembered her dream. Malfoy had seemed the same age as he was now; sixteen. _Of course, that could mean nothing as it was a dream_, she told herself. But another side of her was telling her that what she had seen was more than a dream.

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Hermione had only been searching for fifteen minutes when she found what she was looking for. She found it in a newspaper that dated back to the past August. It was a short article with a picture of who she supposed must have been Charlotte Dunbar and a dog. The article read:

_Charlotte Dunbar's body was found late last night on her parent's front yard. The victim's mother had gone outside because she had heard a strange noise outside her home. Charlotte's Dunbar's body was examined and healers found large amounts of residual dark magic. Her sister Christina Dunbar remains missing (see story in May 28th issue of the DP). Her funeral will be held this Friday at Willow Creek Cemetery._

Hermione looked at the picture. Charlotte Dunbar had been pretty; Long, dark hair and a pretty face. She smiled back at Hermione, petting her dog with one hand, waving at Hermione with the other. Hermione ripped the article and the picture from the newspaper and stuffed the rest back onto the shelf. She pulled out all the newspapers from May. She searched and searched, but could not find the May 28th issue.

"Excuse me, Madam Pince?" she asked the librarian, "Do you know where the May 28th issue of the Daily Prophet is? It's not on the shelves." Madam Pince frowned. "Well, what do you expect?" she snapped. " This is a school library. I can't keep students from stealing old newspapers." Hermione sighed. "Thank you anyway, Madam Pince."

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Hermione was walking down the corridor to the Great Hall for dinner when she heard loud, obnoxious laughing behind her. She turned and to her dismay saw that it was a group of Slytherins. Malfoy was doing a ridiculous impression of… _her._ She stopped turning to face them with a scowl on her face. Malfoy was closing his eyes, flailing his arms, shouting in a high-pitched voice, "I don't understand! I don't understand." He grinned when he saw her. "Hey Granger. Feeling better?" Hermione continued to scowl at him, but inside was wondering, _how did he find out what happened?_ Malfoy continued to grin at her, "I heard you passed out. Is it true, mudblood?" The Slytherins laughed.

"What's going on here?" Hermione turned around to see Snape standing behind her. He had a thin, twisted smirk on his face. "Not causing trouble, are we Ms. Granger?" Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Snape said, "Ten points from Gryffindor." Hermione closed her mouth, flustered. She had managed to lose fifty house points today alone. She never lost points, at least not when Harry and Ron weren't around.

Malfoy, Snape, and the other Slytherins made their way past her, on their way to the Great Hall, sneering at her on the way. In a split second decision, Hermione called to Malfoy's retreating back, "Who is Charlotte Dunbar?"

_A/N: Hey everyone! Just wanted to thank you for reading and ask you to give me some feedback! I'd really appreciate it!_


	2. Who Is Charlotte Dunbar?

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter characters.**

"_Who is Charlotte Dunbar?"_

The effects of Hermione's words were sudden and unexpected. Malfoy spun around and his trademark sneer had slid off his face. Crabbe and Goyle stopped flexing their muscles. All the Slytherins accompanying them, including Snape, turned to look at her with opened-mouthed awe. Malfoy and Snape were the first to recover, Snape looking at her with suspicion. Malfoy, however, said, "What did you say?" The reaction of the group unnerved Hermione slightly and she was unsure of whether she should continue. "Who is… who's Charlotte Dunbar?" she asked a little more quietly. Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her and Pansy Parkinson looked at him hesitantly. "That's none of your business, you filthy little mudblood," Malfoy replied coldly. Hermione realized she had obviously hit a nerve within the group, especially in Malfoy. Malfoy gave her a glare and began to turn away from her. "How did she die?" Hermione asked, boldly. "Ms. Granger," Snape interrupted, "It is hardly appropriate to be asking Mr. Malfoy such questions." Hermione didn't acknowledge him. "It's just," she said, staring at Malfoy, "I don't think she's dead. I think she needs help, though." Malfoy shook his head. "You don't deserve to have Charlie's name grace your lips," he said bitterly, "Not that it's any of your business, but they found her body." Hermione pulled the article she tore from the Daily Prophet out of her pocket. "I know, I found this," she said holding it up, "But I still think something's up, there's something more behind this." Malfoy was giving her a look that clearly said 'Stay out it, you stupid girl.' Pansy took Malfoy's arm and began pulling him towards the Great Hall, but he tore his arm from her and stalked off past Hermione towards the dungeons. The Slytherins, all took one last sneering glance at her and filed into the Great Hall.

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Hermione cherished the times when it was her turn to patrol the castle late at night. Prefects kept an eye out for students who were out of bed past curfew and any disruptions inside the school. Hermione loved to be in the dark, alone with her thoughts. She thought about the day's events and the Slytherins' reactions. She had noticed Malfoy had used the name Charlie in reference to Charlotte Dunbar. That meant that he and the girl were close. Perhaps more than friends? Hermione wondered what kind of person would want to be friends with Malfoy, let alone _more _than friends. _She must be really repulsive,_ Hermione thought, _worse than Pansy. _Not that she had looked repulsive in her picture.

Hermione sat on the marble steps; the day's exhaustion still clung to her. Her shift was almost over and she considered turning in early, but a part of her was dreading sleep. She knew she would have another dream and she was not looking forward to it.

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Draco Malfoy sat on the green common room couch, waiting for the clock to strike twelve so he could begin his patrol around the school. The only thought in his mind was, _How did she know? _Draco looked up when he heard a door open upstairs and watched Pansy Parkinson descend the girl's dormitory stairs. She curled up next to him and stroked his neck. Pansy's fawning over him had been going on for years and he had calmly endured it every year, even when he had been dating his neighbor, Charlotte. He had loved Charlotte and had given her the nickname of Charlie. She had loved the name. Whenever she introduced herself to people she would say, "Hi, my name's Charlotte, but my boyfriend calls me Charlie." Charlie never knew about Pansy. Malfoy never told her. He hadn't considered it cheating because he never reciprocated anything, but he hadn't told her so she wouldn't lose faith in him, so she didn't worry. "Draco? Are you okay?" Pansy whispered, "It's okay to mourn your sister, Draco." Malfoy looked at her then he took her hand off his neck and pushed her away. She knew Charlie wasn't his sister and in his mind, had just tainted Charlie's memory. She looked at him in shock. "Go back to bed, Pansy," he said quietly. "What? Draco, I was just trying-" Malfoy held up his hand. "Go back to bed," he said with a note of finality. Pansy left for her dormitory slowly, occasionally glancing back at him.

Draco stared into the fire, his eyes glazing over, his head filling with memories. He always felt like a different person with Charlie. She kept him in line over the summer. She never let him walk over her. That's what attracted him to her. He didn't have control of her like he controlled Pansy. He remembered walking around their neighborhood from noon to when the sky got dark. Just continuous circles for hours. Then, her father would call her in and give Draco a suspicious look and ask him where they had been. Charlie would tell him to stop giving Draco a hard time. Then, they would share a tender goodnight kiss. Every night during the summer he would kiss her and say "I'll see you in the morning." And in the morning he would wake up and look out his window and there she would be, smiling back at him out her bedroom window. Last summer, was the hardest summer of his life, especially the mornings, because he never saw her.

Draco checked his watch and sighed. It was time for a long night patrolling the corridors of Hogwarts.

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Draco was delighted when he couldn't find Hermione anywhere. That meant she had left her shift early. Prefects were supposed to check in with each other at the end and beginning of their shifts. He'd have to report her to Snape in the morning.

Severus Snape had known Charlie, too. Charlie came from a long line of Dark, Pureblooded, wizards, like many in their neighborhood. It was a circle of communication. Everyone from the old families knew each other. It was like a big family, everyone cared for each other. Everyone loved Charlie, even Snape. Everyone had been dismayed when her dead body was found, but no one more than Draco. Especially when the Dark Lord had taken the credit for her death.

Draco turned the corner, lost in his thoughts. Suddenly, he tripped over something and he fell face first towards the ground. He cursed, rubbing his sore knees. He looked at the obstruction and cursed again. Granger had fallen asleep on her shift. He watched her, expecting her to wake up after being almost fallen on, but she continued to toss and turn like she was having a nightmare. She murmured something about not understanding and he smirked. "Please," she murmured, and Malfoy moved to wake her, but stopped when she said, "Just explain it to me Charlotte." Malfoy stared at her. "I'm trying to help you!" she shouted suddenly. Her eyes shot open and she blinked. "Charlotte?" she called into the darkness.

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Hermione blinked. "Charlotte?" she said into the darkness. _Oh, I've waken up_, she thought, slightly disappointed. This time she had come face to face with Charlotte; sort of. More like an essence of her. Hermione always came out of these dreams understanding less and less of the situation. She sat up and rubbed her head. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness, were able to make out a figure sitting near her, not moving at all. However, she could hear the person's shallow breathing. "W-who's there?" she said, her voice quavering. "What do you know about Charlie?" Malfoy. She recognized his voice. It was different, however. It wasn't the same drawling voice she normally heard. It was choked and strained.

Draco was sitting quietly, watching her. She looked at him. He wanted to know. Maybe he would listen now. Hermione launched into her story, describing her dreams in great detail. His face showed no emotion as she told what she knew, when he spoke however, she could hear the sadness in his voice. "Charlie's alive? That can't be. How can it? Her body…" Hermione contemplated what she knew. "Do they know who killed her?" Hermione asked. Malfoy bowed his head and Hermione waited patiently for his answer. "He did… The Dark Lord." Hermione was surprised. _Since when did Voldemort go around killing his own followers? _As if he were reading Hermione's mind, Draco said, "She never approved of what any of us did. Sure, she associated with us, we were all like family, but she constantly begged us to follow the Light, especially when he came back. She always told us we would lose something, we never thought…" Malfoy trailed off.

Hermione tried to make sense of what she'd heard. It seemed to piece together well. Voldemort extinguished the last light in a pool of darkness. "What about her sister?" she asked. Malfoy shook his head. "No one's worried about Christina. She was so deep into the cause. She hated Charlie. Nobody believed her when she said Charlie would pay, we never thought she'd hurt her own blood." Malfoy sighed and then almost as if he were talking to himself he said, "But why contact Granger? Why not Severus?" Hermione watched his brow furrow in concentration and Hermione was struck by how attractive he was without the horrible sneer. "So you believe me?" Hermione said hopefully. As much as she despised Malfoy, she couldn't deal with this on her own. "No," Malfoy said finally. "What? Why not? How would I make this up?" Malfoy scowled at her. "Talking with dead people who haven't chosen to remain as a ghost is Dark magic and highly doubt _you_ would posses that ability. Why would Charlie choose to seek _your_ help?" he challenged. "I don't think she's dead Malfoy, and if she's not, she's not the saint you make her out to be. Invading a living person's mind from long distances, haunting them with dark images, without their permission is considered Dark magic," she retorted.

Suddenly, Malfoy was very close to her face. "Don't you dare insult Charlie in front of me," he snarled. He pushed her away from him and rose to his feet. She heard his footsteps echoing all the way down the corridor.

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_What I said hadn't really been an insult, _Hermione thought to herself Saturday morning, _I was merely pointing it out_. Hermione had decided she would spend her day in the library, so she could try to make sense of what was happening. She had had yet another dream. The dreams were becoming progressively darker and scarier. Even in her dream, she felt as if she could smell the stench of sweat and blood. She could hear the screams, as she sat alone in a dark, damp room. _Could this be what Charlotte is enduring?_ Hermione questioned. Hermione was determined to save her, even if Malfoy didn't believe what was right in front of his pointed face.

When Hermione arrived, however, it seemed as if she would not be alone. Malfoy was there searching through books. She gazed at the titles: _The Dream Decoder, Occlumency From A Distance: Illegal or No, Scholar's Magic Atlas, Dark Images: Nightmares to Visions, Messages from the Heavens._ Hermione smirked. "So you do believe me?" Hermione asked, announcing her presence. Malfoy snapped his book shut. He sneered at her and said, "I can't take the chance that you really are telling the truth… If you are, I need to find her."  
"Are you going to let me help you?"

"I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do!" Hermione snapped indignantly, "I'm the one having the dreams!"

"I still don't understand that," Malfoy said coolly.

"Well," Hermione said, "If you don't want my help, fine. But I don't think you'll get very far without the information I learned last night."

"What are you on about, Granger?"

"You don't want my help, remember?"

Malfoy sighed. "Fine, you can help, but not a word to anyone about what we're doing, not even Potty and Weasel." Hermione ignored Malfoy's insult on her friends and sat next to him at a library table.

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Two hours later, Hermione was frustrated. They hadn't found anything to explain Hermione's dreams/vision and Malfoy couldn't refrain from making several wisecracks about Harry, or Ron, or Gryffindors in general. Finally, she had told Malfoy she was done for the day. She just couldn't stand to be alone with him for another minute. She made her way up to the Gryffindor common room and sat down on the floor with Harry and Ron who were playing a game of Wizard's Chess. "Hey Hermione, where have you been?" Ron asked. Hermione sighed. "At the library, doing homework." Ron nodded, acting as if he was interested, but he was really absorbed in his chess game. "After this game, let's go down for lunch," Hermione said, her stomach grumbling. "Sure thing," Harry replied.

Hermione was staring up at the ceiling, when she heard a crash from the chessboard. She looked down and saw Ron's knight being dragged off the playing board. "I had to sacrifice him," Ron explained, "to get to Harry's queen." Suddenly, Hermione didn't feel so hungry. "Sacrifice," she thought aloud. "Yeah, I had to get rid of him, to get something better." Hermione jumped up. "Oh, Ron, you're brilliant!" she said excitedly and Ron's ears went red. "Oh, well, thanks Hermione," he replied. Hermione didn't reply, as she was speeding out the portrait hole, around corners, down corridors, and into the library. Malfoy was still there taking notes from a book, when Hermione collapsed into a chair

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Draco looked up at Hermione when she collapsed into the chair across from him. "Back already, Granger?" he asked smugly, "Just couldn't get enough of me, could you?" He grinned when she returned his smirk with a glare. But her glare didn't last long. Instead, she smiled. "What did Christina look like?" she asked. Draco stared at her. "Why?"  
"Just tell me. Did she look like Charlotte?" Draco shrugged. He hadn't known Christina that well. She had mostly kept to herself. Charlie had shown him pictures, however, and had been surprised to find that they were identical… almost. Being Charlie's boyfriend, he had seen distinguishing marks on his girlfriend most people didn't. "They were identical. Why?" Hermione grinned wider. "I think," she began slowly, "that there was a mix up. I think they buried Christina's body, not Charlotte's. Charlotte's alive." Draco thought about this. "You're making this too complicated. Why would the Dark Lord kill Christina? She would follow him till the death. He killed Charlotte because she wouldn't." Hermione's grin slid off her face. "If he killed Charlotte then why is she alive?" Draco shook his head and said, "She's not alive, Hermione."

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"If you're so certain that she's dead, why are you helping me?" she shouted. She didn't realize that he'd called her Hermione, until five minutes later. They both had their head in books, fuming at each other. Hermione slowly looked up from her book and was surprised to find him staring at her. "You called me Hermione," she said quietly. Malfoy nodded. "She told me she was alive," she said, "I know she is." Hermione described her dream she had had the night before. She expected to see some kind of emotion pass his face as she described the horrors his girlfriend had presumably been enduring, but his face remained blank. After all the emotion he had shown the night before, when they met in the hall, it surprised her. "I think Voldemort lied. ("Don't say his name," Malfoy hissed.) I don't think he killed her. She's alive; I just don't know why he would kill his own follower and not Charlotte. It's not logical… or maybe he doesn't have anything to do with this at all."  
Malfoy cast her a confused look. Hermione shook her head. She was confused too…

_A/N: I'd like to thank my **one** reviewer, Danish Pastry for taking the time to leave me a review. You don't know how much it means to me! Thanks for reading!_


	3. Involved With Malfoy

In the weeks up until the Christmas Break, Hermione spent long hours in the library with Malfoy. That, along with schoolwork, and her Prefect duties had eaten up all her free time. "Hermione? Are you ready to go to Hogsmeade?" Ron said hovering over her shoulder. Hermione looked up from her textbook and gave her friend a tired smile "I just can't, Ron. I've got to finish this before break," she said, indicating her potions essay she was working on. "Come on, Hermione. It's the last time you'll have a chance to purchase Christmas gifts." Hermione sighed. The last thing on her mind was Christmas. She shook her head. "Sorry, Ron."

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The Hogwarts Express pulled out of Hogmeade station and Hermione, Ron, and Harry were settling down in an empty compartment. Hermione would be staying at The Order Headquarters for the holiday break. Malfoy was staying at Hogwarts in order to continue their research. Hermione had been surprised at his unrelenting determination. They had agreed that if he found anything of importance at the library, he would owl her and she would owl him if her dreams provided any new information.

For a while, Hermione stared out the compartment window while Ron and Harry talked Quidditch. "So Hermione… What's up with you and Malfoy?" Harry asked. Hermione looked up at her friends. _Harry always has been the attentive one,_ she thought. "What do you mean?" she asked, trying to arrange her face so it looked like one of confusion. "Come on, Hermione," Ron said, "You two have been spending a lot of time together. I mean, every morning you give these weird looks to each other, then during lunch, you two run off together to the library, and Ernie says that you two do your prefect duties together even if it means doing extra shifts." _Had they really been that obvious? _Hermione shrugged. "He didn't want me to tell you guys," she began, "but I'm tutoring him in Charms, he really needs catching up. He's dreadful, actually," she lied. Ron chuckled, but Harry looked concerned. "He hasn't been giving you a hard time, has he?" he said. Hermione brushed off his concern with a wave of her hand. "Of course not. He's actually not so terrible." Ron and Harry gave her skeptical looks.

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Christmas morning arrived and she heard a sharp knock on the door of the room she and Ginny shared. "Hurry up!" said an excited voice from behind the door, "Come on, Gin! Hermione! Presents!" Hermione shook her head, partly to shake away the sleep and partly at Ron's childish excitement. Ginny and Hermione dressed and went downstairs.

For the first time since they had been at number 12, Harry was smiling at her when she entered the kitchen. She couldn't blame him. Traces of Sirius were all around the house. "Morning," Harry said, handing her a piece of toast. Ron, Fred, and George were already gathered around the gifts eagerly motioning everyone over so they could begin opening their presents.

Harry watched everyone else open his or her gifts. Everyone tried to get him to open a present, but he refused, saying he'd open them later. Although, the group was disappointed, they accepted this excuse with understanding.

Just as everyone finished opening gifts a large, black owl tapped on the window. When Mr. Weasley opened the window, the owl soared in and dropped a package in Hermione's lap. It then flew back out the open window. "Well, dear, who is that from?" Mrs. Weasley asked, brightly. Hermione, however, paled. "Excuse me," she said, "I really don't feel well. Cramps." Hermione took her package and sped up the stairs. Ginny, Tonks, and Mrs. Weasley all gave each other knowing and sympathizing looks. Had they not just seen what Harry and Ron had? She was trying to get away with showing everyone what her package was; yet they were all acting as if she were really sick. Harry stood and followed Hermione up the stairs.

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Hermione snapped the door shut behind her and sat on the bed. Looking at the package, she could immediately determine who had sent it to her. The Malfoy crest was stamped in the upper corner. She tore open the brown wrapping. She wondered why Malfoy would be sending her something. Maybe he had found something out. She opened the box and found a note and to her surprise a silver bracelet with emerald stones. She picked up the bracelet gingerly and slipped it onto her wrist. Hermione admired the way the stones shined; the way the bracelet complimented her wrist. She opened the note and read:

_Hermione,_

_I just wanted to thank you for all your help. I was at Hogsmeade and I saw this… for some reason, I thought of you. Take it as a token of my appreciation._

_Draco_

Hermione looked up quickly when she heard her door open. She looked at Harry and quickly tried to stuff the note back in the box, but he took two strides and wrestled it from her grip. He read the note quickly. "What'd he give you?" he asked calmly. She held up her wrist. "Hermione, what's going on with you and Malfoy? The truth this time." Hermione sighed. "I told you Harry, I've been tutoring him in potions." Harry narrowed his eyes. "You said charms earlier."  
"That too," she said quickly, but she knew she was caught. "Listen, Harry. Malfoy needs my help, but he asked me to keep it a secret, okay? I can't break my promise."  
"What would you be helping him with that might compel him to buy you a gift, a very nice gift?"

Hermione shrugged. "I just can't tell you, Harry."

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Hermione made her way to the library, the holiday break over. Hermione hadn't seen Malfoy at lunch and assumed that he must be at the library. Harry hadn't talked much to her after the confrontation about Malfoy's gift. Hermione tried to act normal afterwards, but he just wouldn't seem to let it go. _If Harry wanted to be that way,_ she thought to herself,_ then that was just fine with her. _

Hermione entered the library quietly and immediately spotted Malfoy. He was hunched over a book. "You didn't have to get me anything, you know," she said to his back, "I mean, I didn't get you anything." Malfoy turned around and shrugged. "I thought it would be a nice thing to do." _Since when did Malfoy do nice things? _Hermione sat in the chair across from him. "Have you found anything out?" she asked. "Sure," he replied, "I've found out loads of stuff that isn't remotely related to what we're looking for. What about you? Any dreams that might be of help?" Hermione paused before she spoke. She had had plenty of dreams each more horrific than the next. It seemed to Hermione, that Charlotte was giving her a look into the world she was living. She was unsure what to tell Malfoy. Seeing her hesitation, Malfoy sat up straighter. "What? What's wrong?"  
"Well," Hermione began, "It's really, really, awful, Draco. I think instead of telling you the graphic details, I should just tell you that we need to get her out of there, as quickly as we possibly can." She stood and went to the bookshelf, but she could feel Malfoy's eyes burning into her back. "They're hurting her, aren't they?" Hermione didn't answer. It was a question he already knew the answer to.

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_Two girls sat in a dark, stone room. One girl had a rather mean scowl on her face, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the wall opposite her. The other had her knees pulled up to her, tearstains on her cheek, and was looking scared. "This is your fault," the grumpy looking one said. "I know," the other said softly. "Your lucky I have connections, Charlie, or else we'd really be in trouble." The grumpy one stood and began to pace the floor. "I don't want to be saved by your _connections_," Charlie replied nastily. "Fine then, I'll leave without you."_

_At that moment, a door at the front of the small room opened allowing in a great amount of light. The girl sitting on the floor squinted her eyes. All Charlie could see was a shadow standing in the doorway. "So… are you followers of the Dark Lord?" the shadow asked calmly. Charlie stood. "Absolutely not," she declared boldly. Her sister, however, shook her head. "I am, she is not. I would like to offer you my proof." The shadow chuckled, as if he didn't believe her. "Well go on then, show me." Christina pulled up her left sleeve revealing an ugly, black, mark on her wrist. Charlie couldn't help but wrinkle her nose in disgust. The shadow tilted his head. "Well, then" he said, "Let me offer my apologies for this inconvenience Ms… erm-" _

"_Dunbar," Christina answered for him. The shadow looked up at Charlie, who was looking back at the both of them with defiance. "She's not coming," Christina said, "She does not follow the Dark Lord." The shadow nodded and allowed Christina to exit and snapped the door shut behind them. Charlie stared at the door in disbelief. Her sister had actually left her. Her courage quickly evaporated away. She rushed to the door; pounding on it she screamed, "Wait! Christina, don't leave me! Please, Christy! Let me out! Please, Christina! I'm your sister!" Charlie began to cry again. "Christina! Please, wait! I'm your sister!" she sobbed. She screamed and shouted until her throat was raw and dry. Slowly, she slid onto the floor, defeated and tired. _

_A long time later, the door opened again. This time the man came in, shutting the door behind him. He stood in front of Charlie's huddled body. He extended his hand out to her. Charlie looked at it uncertainly. "Come now, I don't bite." It was definitely the same man that had come in earlier. She could recognize his voice, even now, when it was filled with friendliness. Hesitantly, she reached up and she was quickly pulled to her feet. "That was an awfully horrible thing your sister did, just leaving you like that," the man said. Now that Charlie was up on her feet she could get an adequate look at her captor. He was at least six inches taller than her and had shaggy, curly, dark hair. He was looking at her through piercing gray eyes. "But you needn't worry," the man continued, "I have taken care of her." The way the man uttered those last few words made her hair stand up on her neck. "Who in their right mind would really follow _Voldemort_?" He spat the name like it left a fowl taste in his mouth. He smiled at her. "You're smart though, aren't you?" He placed his warm hand on her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. His thumb moved along her jaw and then moved it, tracing it along her bottom lip. It sent shivers up her spine. Finally, she had enough sense to push herself away from him. She stumbled backwards slightly. The man chuckled. "I'm David," he said extending his hand again. Charlie didn't move. David nodded his head and came closer to her. He placed his hands on her hips and leaned in so close she could smell him. Suddenly, his lips were pressed firmly against hers. She shouted out and wriggled from his grip. He let her go. "That's okay," he said, "I'll be back." With that, he pulled open the door, once again flooding the room with light, but only for a moment. He left and the door clicked shut behind him. She could hear locks on the door clicking. Once again she was left in darkness…_

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Hermione sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. The back of her shirt was wet with sweat and clung to her back. Her frizzy hair was damp and she decided it would be best to pull it back into a bun. She looked at her surroundings… she was in one of the unused dungeon classrooms. The blue couch she had been sleeping on looked so out of place in the darkness of the dungeons and she wondered how it had gotten there. She wondered how _she_ had gotten there. She heard a groan from behind her. Hermione looked behind the back of the couch. A few feet away from her was Malfoy asleep on the stone floor, a book lay open next to him. She shut the book and knelt down next to him. She nudged him awake.  
"Wha-? Oh, Hermione… you're awake." Hermione nodded and helped him sit up. "The floor is not the best place to take a nap," he muttered to himself. Hermione smiled at him and asked, "Why are we down here?" Both she and Malfoy stood. "Because it's cold," he replied, "You were sweating like crazy up in the library, so I brought you down here."  
"Oh well," Hermione said, embarrassed, "Thank you… Did you transfigure that couch yourself?" Malfoy nodded.  
"Impressive bit of magic isn't it? Not many sixth years can pull it off," he said pompously. Hermione just smirked at him.  
"I had a good dream," he continued.  
"Oh? About what?" Hermione asked. Draco gave her a sly grin and she giggled. He shook his head. "What? How come you won't tell me?" she asked, smiling. Draco shrugged, winking at her. She laughed again and she was suddenly aware of how natural it felt to be joking around with Draco Malfoy. "Tell me," she pressed. "It's kind of… a guy thing," he said with another sly grin. She blushed. "Oh, that kind of dream," she said looking away from him, trying to stifle her girlish giggles.  
"Yeah," he said coming up behind her. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You were in it," he whispered in her ear, his breath hot on her neck. She spun to face him and was shocked to find something akin to desire in his eyes. "Draco, I-" He put his finger to her lips and said, "Shh." He moved towards her and she moved backwards until she reached the couch and could go no further. He leaned towards her. Hermione panicked and began to fall backward over the back of the couch with a shriek. She snatched the air, trying to grab hold of something to prevent her fall. Instead, she grabbed Malfoy, pulling him. He fell on top of her and their heads collided, leaving Hermione trying to blink away the white stars that had appeared. Hermione looked up at Malfoy who was straddled across her rubbing his head. "Merlin, Granger. What the hell is your prob-" The sly grin he had had earlier was beginning to slowly creep back onto his face (he seemed to realize the position they were in). He leaned close to her face. Hermione put her hands on his shoulders, but whether it was to push him away or pull him closer she couldn't remember. His lips were pressed gently against hers.

Suddenly, an image of Draco shirtless flashed before her eyes. She had no idea where it had come from, but she liked it. She moaned softly and she felt Draco's smile on her lips. His tongue traced her bottom lip. Surprising herself, she opened her mouth allowing his tongue to slip inside her mouth. Just as quickly as the first image had come, another scene came to her as if it had been there forever: Malfoy and a girl with long, dark hair were kissing next to a clear lake. Hermione gasped in surprise and Draco took it as a sign that she wanted him to continue his assault on her mouth. Every inch of her seemed to be burning with warmth and desire, but it was interrupted with yet another image: Draco and the same girl were in a wooded area dancing. The girl was in only a nightgown and Draco was holding her close, humming a soft, slow song. Hermione suddenly realized what she was seeing. These were Charlotte's memories. She pushed Draco off her. He looked at her with confusion, but she didn't bother to explain. She dashed out of the dungeons and headed for the Gryffindor common room.

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"Hermione?" Hermione was half way through the common room when she heard Harry's voice from the couch. She looked at him. "Yes, Harry?" He motioned her over and she sat next to him. "I wanted to apologize," he said, "for being in bad mood about Malfoy." He sighed. Hermione smiled at him. "Of course, Harry. It's forgotten." She gave him a sisterly hug and began to stand, but he obviously wasn't finished. "It's just that," he continued, "I really don't think you should get involved with him. I mean, there are plenty of guys in your own house, Hermione."  
"What? Harry! I'm not _involved_ with Malfoy," she lied. He gave her a disbelieving look. "He gave you an expensive bracelet. You're involved," he replied flatly. Hermione sighed. "You're right, Harry. Goodnight."  
"Goodnight, Hermione."

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When Hermione went down to breakfast, she felt more distraught then ever before. Her dreams had disturbed her greatly. After weeks of dreaming about Charlotte, she had dreamt about not getting her Charms essay in on time. After much thought, Hermione attributed Charlotte's absence to her own actions with Draco the night before. "Come on, Harry," Ron was saying, "You need to eat. You can't play well on an empty stomach." Hermione watched Ron urge Harry to eat, not bothering to eat anything herself. She glanced over at the Slytherin table. Draco was watching her. He was looking for confirmation. Every morning, she would give him a slight nod, just so he knew Charlie was still alive, still sane enough to let Hermione into her thoughts. She shook her head slowly.

_A/N: Hey everyone! Wow! Thank you so much for all your good reviews! They make me SO happy! Just to thank you all I've decided to give you a little bit of the next chapter. Please review!_

_A bit of Chapter 4_

Hermione, wrapped snugly in a large coat and scarf, walked out to the Quidditch pitch with the rest of the school. "Granger!" She turned around, ignoring the fierce February wind and faced Draco. "What happened? No dreams? What does that mean?" he asked, slightly panicked. She looked at him in his Slytherin green Quidditch robes. "I think," she said, choosing her words carefully, "it means that she knows that we kissed, last night." Draco smirked. "She always was a jealous bitch."


End file.
